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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29052258">Love Languages</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpinachArtichokeDitz/pseuds/SpinachArtichokeDitz'>SpinachArtichokeDitz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bridging the Gap [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rune Factory 4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Banter, Canon Universe, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Headcanon, Humor, Kissing, Making Out, Mild Sexual Content, Romance, Teasing, Valentine's Day</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:01:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29052258</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpinachArtichokeDitz/pseuds/SpinachArtichokeDitz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He thought it was a bit silly to appoint a holiday for friendship and romance, but events like that were incredibly important to Frey. Solely for her benefit, he secretly decided to play along--because she’d smile, of course, and especially because she'd blush, but also because she’d be surprised in more ways than one. As long as he didn’t screw up, anyway... and, well, he didn’t want to calculate the chances of that happening.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Frey/Leon (Rune Factory)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Bridging the Gap [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2083023</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Love Languages</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I think this is my favorite out of all Leon/Frey content I've written. I hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it~! It turned out over twice as long as I intended.</p><p>Oh, a little warning: There is mature sexual content in this, but nothing explicit, hence the M rating. No clothing is even removed, unless you count armor. X)</p><p>Side note: Because Leon briefly thinks about his appearance in this fic and I think it's generally accepted that his ears/tail are leftover from his monster form, I wanted to mention my HC is he's always had them.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> “Maria, I love you,” he said--first in the old tongue, then in the new, and when spoken together, the phrases met in the middle of a time-honored bridge. It was rickety and in disrepair, having extended across centuries and millennia, most perilous where it was bound to the past by weathered, brittle ropes. Below them, impenetrable dark; above them, revealing light. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> The two were strangers, but their faces looked familiar to one other. They were unable to interpret each other’s words, yet their voices harmonized. It was without the use of sight or sound that they understood, for they shared the same invisible, silent sentiments: hopes and dreams, plans and impulses, promises and commitments. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Two phrases that, when offered by one soul to another, acted as placeholders in history and memory alike. Two phrases that held the hands of life and death simultaneously, oscillating between them. Two phrases that would eventually be lost in time, and even in translation. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Of the two, only the ancient phrase was fearful; she knew that someday soon, when the tattered ropes inevitably snapped, it meant not a single living soul remembered her. As the bridge deteriorated, only remaining suspended from the thicker, stronger ropes on the other side, she would be blotted out--lost to the depths of the long-forgotten chasm. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> When that came to pass, she expected her counterpart would scale the bridge like a ladder, abandoning her roots to the darkness below--vaguely aware that one day she, too, would know the abyss. Or… maybe she would grab her hand, undeterred by the extra burden, and preserve her memory; perhaps she would even teach the old tongue to her children, her grandchildren, her great grandchildren... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Only time would tell. </em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Before he confessed to her, he wanted to be irrevocably prepared to make their relationship official, so to speak… and that morning, the moment he awoke, he knew he finally was.</p><p> </p><p>Although he was still frequently struck with a pang of guilt and uncertainty, he was gradually learning to stand firm and acknowledge his emotions rather than turning tail (literally) and running away. Confronting his feelings seemed to help abate his nightmares--with the assistance of the blue core charm, which he decided he’d <em> never </em>remove again--and now that Frey was privy to his innermost struggles, he felt like he could share just about anything with her… just about anything, up until that point, except the fact that he was in love with her.</p><p> </p><p>‘They’re just words,’ some people might have told him, ‘and you’re already expressing love in other ways, so what’s the problem?’ But there was a difference, at least to him. The inherent power of those three words, 'I love you,' were among the most binding of all--because generally, when you said them, you were either in a serious relationship with someone or on the verge of it. At the very least, you were giving someone hope that you wanted to pursue that relationship, which was a commitment--a promise, of sorts, that he didn’t want to break.</p><p> </p><p>Frey had eagerly confessed to him months ago because that was how she felt; it was that simple for her. In the same way she wore her heart on her sleeve, she spoke her mind, and it was always honest and true. It was one of the many things he found so endearing about her. And regardless of her desire for him to reciprocate--he could see that in her eyes, like he could see most everything else--she never asked him to. He always responded that he was fond of her, or hugged and kissed her to demonstrate that he requited, but he knew hearing those words was important to her.</p><p> </p><p>The day he taught her in the ancient language, soon after they met, was the only time she heard it from his lips. He remembered feeling lost afterward because he impulsively--yet deliberately--taught her that phrase, <em>of</em> <em>all phrases</em>, and he didn’t have a logical explanation for it. Then she surprised him with her perfect pronunciation, and he was in awe of how quickly she learned to write it, as well. It wasn’t an easy language to learn; he could attest to that.</p><p> </p><p>Frey had even asked him why he chose 'I love you,' and his answer was a poor excuse--‘usefulness for the future.’ Maybe it <em> was </em>useful, but so were various other phrases, and what reason would she ever have to tell someone she loved them in the ancient language? Anyone but him, the only person who would understand?</p><p> </p><p>He had been lying to himself that day, and every day that followed. The truth… the truth was that he taught her that phrase purposefully, not only because he needed to hear someone say ‘I love you’ in the language he and Maria had so often used, but because he hoped Frey would eventually repeat it--with conviction. When she did, just over a year later, he realized he’d envisioned her saying those words to him since the <em> day he met her</em>. It was irrational.</p><p> </p><p>Did he only feel that way because she was the first person he saw after centuries of isolation? Was that why her presence made him feel grounded, from the very beginning--because she was the first tangible thing he had to hold on to? Because hers was the first voice to grace his ears, and the first word she spoke liberated him? Had he been mistaking his gratefulness for love this entire time? No--from the very depths of his heart and soul, he knew that wasn’t the case. </p><p> </p><p>However, he felt like he <em> had </em>taken advantage of her kindness too often. He sought her company daily, clinging to her small but sturdy frame like he clung to his dwindling sanity. She always held him for as long as he needed her to, no matter how busy she was. Imagining what it would be like to live the second part of his life without her was harrowing; a plethora of emotions welled up in his chest at the mere thought of it, and he felt weak for depending on her to such an extent.</p><p> </p><p>And then it struck him, all of the sudden, that her arms were so overloaded with his emotional baggage that she didn’t have time to consider her own. She never expressed how she felt about having lost her memory, her previous identity, or the family she might have left behind. Damn, he was so selfish and wrapped up in his own issues that he’d been neglecting hers.</p><p> </p><p>Doubt, unwelcome and menacing, settled itself comfortably in the chair alongside his bed. Would she even want to be in a relationship with him after how selfish he’d been? After he’d kept her waiting and provided nothing but vague explanations? Half the continent would jump at the chance to be with her, and yet here he was--stalling, stringing her along when she could be on her way to starting her own family with someone else… someone more stable.</p><p> </p><p>Was that even what she wanted, eventually? A family? They hadn’t discussed it, probably because she knew it was one of several topics that made him uncomfortable, and she was too considerate to mention it. And there it was again--yet another example of how she placed his feelings above her own, and always with an unshakeable smile on her face.</p><p> </p><p>Come to think of it, she probably catered to Venti’s wellbeing over everyone else’s (as much as he hated to admit it), then his, then the townspeoples’--with her own at the very bottom, entirely forgotten by everyone--including herself. Including<em> himself</em>. That was completely unacceptable, and he couldn’t believe he'd never asked her outright if <em> she </em>needed to vent while he listened.</p><p> </p><p>Another issue was that he couldn't seem to keep his hands off her anymore, and although her response remained equally passionate, he was ashamed of monopolizing her free time. He should probably encourage her to rest instead of seeking him out for private encounters, which were becoming more intense daily. They gravitated toward each other compulsively, and he knew the nearly-irresistible desire to sleep with her wasn't going to disappear.</p><p> </p><p>He thought about it so often that it was becoming difficult to concentrate on, well, anything else at all. She was beautiful, to say the very least, and he found each and every little thing about her incredibly alluring--but that wasn’t the only reason. It was also because he couldn’t help feeling that he needed to be closer to her, to express his affection in every way possible; he couldn’t imagine that anything would ever be enough. No matter how tightly he hugged her, he didn’t feel satiated; it only made him crave more.</p><p> </p><p>In a word, he was frustrated--mentally <em> and </em>physically.</p><p> </p><p>Valentine’s Day was either the best or the worst day to have such epiphanies. He thought it was a bit silly to appoint a holiday for friendship and romance, but events like that were incredibly important to Frey. She planned and organized them, striving to ensure that everyone in their little community felt included. She handed out gifts to <em> everyone </em>on holidays, even tourists and travelers who were just passing through.</p><p> </p><p>He’d asked her why, once, and she smiled her brightest smile--the one that knocked his heart out of rhythm--and said, ‘Because it makes people happy!’ That was Frey in a nutshell.</p><p> </p><p>Over time, she’d accepted the fact that non-competitive festivals didn’t interest him, and that if he did participate, it was only briefly. Solely for her benefit, he secretly decided to play along that day--because she’d smile, of course, and especially because she'd blush, but also because she’d be surprised. He loved throwing her off by doing or saying things she didn’t expect him to, and she was about to be surprised in more ways than one, as long as he didn’t screw up--and, well, he didn’t want to calculate the chances of that happening.</p><p> </p><p>After spending the entire morning lost in contemplation, then halfway-convincing himself that Valentine's Day was the day she gave up on him, he decided to see her earlier than planned. He doubted she’d be finished distributing treats yet, but he'd try to find her. Maybe he could help carry something, which would be the perfect excuse to follow her around and tease her. And then, as soon as she was positive everyone was smiling, he’d whisk her away.</p><p> </p><p>He gave the mirror a habitual glance before he left his room, but something made him go back and take another look. He still had these unpredictable, disconcerting moments when he felt like he was contradicting himself, and he didn’t quite know who he was anymore. Thankfully it wasn’t dissociative like his nightmares; it wasn’t so dark as that, but… it forced him to recognize and challenged him to accept the constantly-evolving new version of himself.</p><p> </p><p>He leaned his elbows on the dresser, propped his chin up on his fists, and stared blankly into the mirror. Physically, he hadn't changed; he was still an equal combination of his mother and father. He saw his mother in the color of his cerulean eyes, his father in the sky-blue shade of his hair, ears, and tail. The features he inherited served as reminders, even as his parents faded from memory against his will--and suddenly, gazing at his own reflection and looking into his own eyes was making him uncomfortable.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t a good time to explore those particularly distressing thoughts, so he hurried downstairs about twice as quickly as he normally would, and that much less cautious. As he rounded the blind corner, he was sufficiently distracted, trying to determine how to properly express his feelings to Frey. So far, he was at a loss.</p><p> </p><p>By the time he realized Xiao Pai was in front of him, they were already colliding, and she cried out as she lost her grip on the tray she was carrying--which appeared to be laden with dozens of cookies wrapped in decorative paper. A veritable avalanche of sweets descended on his head and scattered across the ornate green rug, and she toppled along with them, landing flat on her butt with predictable clumsiness. The silver tray clattered at his feet.</p><p> </p><p>“Leon! I’m--ah! Please forgive me!” she sputtered, and her face was so red that it rivaled the cherry wood floors. At least there were no guests around to witness it; they were all in the lobby.</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, I’ll thank you instead,” he replied cheerfully, offering her a hand. Normally he’d make fun of her, but she was sufficiently mortified already, and he was feeling oddly benevolent.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank me?” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she hesitantly took his hand, clearly expecting a trick. When he merely pulled her upright before releasing her, her eyes widened with genuine worry. “Leon, you must be very sick! Let me feel your forehead.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Maybe lovesick</em>, he thought. Then he quickly shook his head and answered with a chuckle, “I was just about to swipe a cookie from the kitchen, so you saved me the trip.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you will receive a cookie from Frey today, yes?” she asked, still clearly bewildered. She brushed off her dress and straightened her apron as she continued. “I’m sure she’ll be handing them out on this side of town soon.”</p><p> </p><p>“If she does, then I’m supposed to give one back to her, right?” He knelt down to help gather the fallen treats, which had her looking even more concerned. “Isn’t that the tradition? I didn’t participate last year.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” she replied slowly, carefully refilling the tray, “but each person should bake their own.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pfft, can you imagine me baking?” He crossed his arms as he smirked down at her with a tilt of his head, and there was unmistakable doubt in her hazel eyes. It was amusing how similar she and Frey were in that regard; their feelings were always plain to see. “That’s what I thought.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well… have you ever <em> tried </em>to bake? It’s possible you’re very good at it, yes?” She was suddenly bursting with determination, clenching her hands into fists, and he had to grin at her enthusiasm. No wonder she and Frey had become close. “You won’t know unless you try!”</p><p> </p><p>“I appreciate the encouragement, but I think I’ll pass.” He ‘helped’ Frey bake a couple of times before, mostly measuring ingredients, and he found it tedious; there was nothing fun about following instructions to the letter. He did enjoy trying to distract her, though--now <em> that </em>was fun.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, but if you ever change your mind, I’m willing to help." She smiled and carefully picked up her tray, white-knuckling the handles. Her brows were knitted together with intense concentration. "Oh, and thank you for helping me!"</p><p> </p><p>“All I ask in return is a cookie, which I will claim to have baked.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think Frey will be fooled so easily,” she laughed, handing one over, “but I’m sure that will not stop you--that is one thing you never stop trying at, yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Never,” he agreed with a grin, safely tucking the cookie into the leather pouch at his hip. “You’ll learn the outcome of this attempt soon enough.”</p><p> </p><p>“I am looking forward to it. Good luck!” she called as she continued on her way, likely to help Lin Fa set up a dessert table for their guests. What those two lacked in gracefulness and memory retention, they made up for in hospitality.</p><p> </p><p>With the cookie problem settled, all he had to do was find Frey--oh, and brainstorm a perfectly elegant way to articulate every last concern he’d thought of that morning. Maybe it would be a good thing if he didn’t find her right away.</p><p> </p><p>As luck would have it, though, she was directly in front of him when he exited the hotel, and he squinted when harsh sunlight assaulted his eyes. He spotted the top of her shiny tiara as she ascended the stone steps straight ahead, and the accompanying pink bonnet meant Nancy was alongside her. A black tophat, surely Dolce’s, also gradually came into view.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s so sweet of you to help, Nancy,” Frey was saying gratefully as she scaled the steps. Her arms were just barely encircling an enormous white basket, which was unsurprisingly overflowing with treats. He wondered if she could even see where she was going. “And you, too, Dolce! Now I’ll get this done three times as fast. I think we should start at--”</p><p> </p><p>Frey climbed the last couple of steps at the same moment she glanced up, and as her lovely green eyes glimpsed his face, she seemed to lose her train of thought mid-sentence. And then she tripped.</p><p> </p><p>Geez, maybe he should have stayed in his room after all. If a third person lost their balance in his presence before nightfall, he’d consider it proof that he was bad luck on ‘nonsense’ holidays. He knew there was a reason he avoided them, besides just general dislike.</p><p> </p><p>He fully expected Frey to recover, but instead, she stumbled and snagged her boot on the top step--resulting in an awkward twisting motion. Then she dropped to her knees and subsequently lost her grip on the basket as its contents met the unforgiving cobblestone with a crash. Her mint twintails pooled on the ground at her sides as her head fell forward, concealing her face. It happened so abruptly that Nancy’s and Dolce’s reactions were delayed, and he wasn’t close enough to break her fall or catch the basket.</p><p> </p><p>“Frey!” all three of them gasped in almost perfect unison. It was more out of surprise than concern, since she was obviously tough--but then she didn’t get up right away, and he knew something was wrong. He hurried across the street, navigating the minefield of scattered cookies as Nancy and Dolce knelt beside her.</p><p> </p><p>“Ouch,” Frey hissed, carefully moving into a sitting position. Her hands flew to her right foot and she flinched as she squeezed it through her boot. “I think I rolled my ankle.”</p><p> </p><p>“Are you really hurt?” he asked as he crouched next to her, truly astonished. Reflexively, he started to brush her disheveled bangs from her eyes, but caught himself at the last second. “I must admit, I’m shocked--not that you fell, of course; that part is entirely believable.”</p><p> </p><p>“My pride is wounded enough without your commentary, thank you,” she growled, poking at her tattered knees. They were scratched up and smeared with blood, making him wince--seeing her injured, even so minorly, was difficult to tolerate.</p><p> </p><p>“Want me to kiss them better?” he purred sweetly, leaning over, and Frey’s head snapped up in alarm. As soon as she locked her widened eyes on his, giving him a horrified look, he subtly winked.</p><p> </p><p>“No!” Frey squeaked, redder than a lamp grass blossom, and Nancy tittered as she examined her legs. He was counting on the other women to interpret that comment as ‘typical Leon,’ and apparently that’s exactly what happened, because they didn’t appear to give it a second thought.</p><p> </p><p>“I always kiss Dolly’s boo-boos better,” came Pico’s chipper voice as she popped up next to Dolce, flashing a spirited grin. She whirled around and the golden stars dangling from her hat jingled. “Love is the best medicine!”</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, Pico! Don’t encourage Leon,” Dolce scolded, but the corner of her mouth was twitching in amusement. She retrieved the upturned basket, adding, “Gods know he doesn’t need it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, everyone needs a little encouragement from time to time, including me,” he retorted, glancing up with an unappreciative scowl. When he raised his head, he noticed that people he didn’t recognize--about a dozen tourists--were standing off to the side, being nosy.</p><p> </p><p>“Not that kind of encouragement,” Dolce deadpanned, shooting him a sardonic look, and he just smirked in response.</p><p> </p><p>He turned his attention back to Frey as she unzipped her boot, and he gingerly helped her slide it over her heel, along with her sock. He and Nancy inhaled sharply, glanced at each other, and then at Frey. Her foot was swelling so rapidly that, had they waited much longer, he wasn’t sure they could’ve removed her boot without dismantling it.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you both looking at me like that? You’re making me nervous!” Frey complained, fidgeting and keeping her eyes elevated. Then she blanched and mumbled, “Ugh, and practically every tourist in town is staring at me, too. How embarrassing.”</p><p> </p><p>He looked over his shoulder to discover, much to his disdain, that the crowd had just about doubled. Rising to his feet, he turned around and motioned for them to move along, and Dolce assisted him. “All right, enough gawking. She’s fine. Give her some space. Go on, already.”</p><p> </p><p>“Leon, if you’re rude, they’re never going to visit again!” Frey whispered harshly as he returned to her side.</p><p> </p><p>“And to them I say, good riddance,” he shrugged, earning a glare. He knew that increasing tourism was important to her, so to avoid genuinely upsetting her, he added complacently, “I wasn’t rude in the slightest; I was simply direct. And look--it got the desired result, did it not?”</p><p> </p><p>She glanced around to see that every last tourist had, in fact, dispersed, and she showed him the smallest grateful smile. Then she looked at the attentive nurse and asked hopefully, “So, what do you think?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s more than a mild sprain, I’m sorry to say,” Nancy answered sympathetically, continuing to examine Frey’s foot with gentle, practiced hands. She was so focused that she’d ignored the entire tourist incident.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sure it’ll be fine!” Frey sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than anything. It would be imperceptible to most, but the set of her jaw was rigid and her shoulders were tense; it was obvious to him that she was in pain. “It doesn’t hurt that much.”</p><p> </p><p>“Have you even looked at it?” he asked, grimacing and raising a brow. The sprained area was already turning dark purple, so swollen that it was hard to differentiate between her ankle and the rest of her foot. “Because…”</p><p> </p><p>“Nope!” she chirped, happily oblivious, and he sighed. She wasn’t going to be happy for much longer.</p><p> </p><p>“You should look,” Dolce agreed, brows slanted over her maroon eyes in concern. “Ignoring it won’t make it go away.”</p><p> </p><p>“Dolly’s right, Frey!” Pico chimed in, frowning sadly. “And she’s really worried about you!”</p><p> </p><p>“A sprain this severe usually takes about two weeks to heal completely." Nancy firmly met Frey's eyes as she spoke; she was fully aware of her tendency to push her body to the breaking point. “You <em> have </em>to stay off of it until the pain and swelling is gone, or you’ll just lengthen the healing process.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hehehe...” Frey giggled nervously and a wide, goofy grin spread across her suitably heart-shaped face. “That’s so funny, Nancy. For a second there, I thought you said two <em> weeks </em> instead of two <em> days</em>.”</p><p><br/>“Frey, honey... I hate to tell you this, but you were right the first time.” Nancy didn’t seem fazed by her reaction, probably accustomed to giving patients unfortunate news. Her kind blue eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled tenderly, patting Frey on the shoulder. “But if you follow my instructions and augment the natural healing process with magic, it should go faster.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>What?! </em>” Frey’s optimistic expression crumbled as her hopes were dashed, and she looked like she might burst into tears at any second. “B-but I’m getting my crops ready for the harvest festival! I just brought an elefun home and I’ve been working with her every day, since she’s so timid! The fish variety contest is next week! I keep promising Venti I’ll make her pancakes! I’m supposed to help--”</p><p> </p><p>Leon, Nancy, and Dolce stared helplessly at each other, listening to Frey grow more frantic with each responsibility she listed. As he placed a comforting hand on her arm, he decided to insist that everyone in town made her their top priority, at least for the next couple of weeks. She'd earned it a thousand times over.</p><p> </p><p>“--and I need to fight dozens more slimes for Porcoline, since he’s perfecting his jelly art cake recipe! I wanted to practice my sashimi technique with him more this week, too! Speaking of cooking, I haven’t had a chance to clean my kitchen yet; it’s a disaster after baking all these cookies! And then there’s--”</p><p> </p><p>“Frey!” the three of them exclaimed, punctuated by Pico. She hadn’t taken a breath since she started rattling off her list, and she was still going. He was concerned she might pass out from a combination of panic and oxygen deprivation, so he jostled her shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“--and all of that spinach is going to wilt if I don’t…” She trailed off, finally noticing their worried stares, and she took a deep, shuddering breath. Then she looked at him with sorrowful eyes, hiccupped, and his heart nearly shattered. He couldn’t resist holding her.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t you worry,” he soothed, enveloping her in his arms. He felt her shoulders begin to relax, as if his words were already lightening her burden. She leaned into him and sniffled, hiding her face against his shoulder. “All of us will band together and help you, all right? I’ll make sure of it.”</p><p> </p><p>“But--!” She hastily righted herself and started to protest, and Nancy interrupted.</p><p> </p><p>“I know you’re used to working the farm on your own, and I know it’s hard to ask for help, but you’re always helping everyone else. Let us return the favor,” the nurse added kindly. She tucked a loose strand of blonde hair beneath her bonnet and smiled. “Okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“We may not handle everything quite as well as you do, but nothing is going to fall apart in two weeks.” Dolce’s tone wasn’t as sweet as Nancy’s, but she was reassuring in her own calm, stoic way. She and Pico had just finished collecting the fallen cookies and refilling the basket during their conversation.</p><p> </p><p>“Unless someone accidentally sets fire to the field, or something else terrible!” Pico exclaimed dramatically, clapping her hands over her pale cheeks. Three sets of narrowed eyes pierced her and she shrank back. “But of course we’d never let that happen! Don’t worry!”</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, everyone,” Frey sighed with a watery smile. Then she very, very reluctantly looked down at her swollen ankle and gasped. Miserably, she groaned, “Oh, no! It’s <em> way </em>worse than I thought. Damn it! If only I’d been more careful...”</p><p> </p><p>“We need to get some ice on that and keep it elevated,” Nancy instructed, standing and smoothing her skirt.</p><p> </p><p>“But what about all the cookies? I can’t just--” Frey began urgently, but the nurse took charge once more.</p><p> </p><p>“Leon, if you carry Frey home, Dolce and I will finish handing out cookies. But promise me you’ll make sure she rests!” she instructed, with all the authority of an experienced nurse--one who knew they’d probably have to put Frey on house arrest until she recovered.</p><p> </p><p>"Ah, so I've been assigned the more difficult job, I see." He chuckled and hooked an arm under Frey's bruising knees before she could protest. She looked miffed, but she grabbed her discarded boot and didn't struggle as he lifted her effortlessly. Every time he picked her up--which was much more often than one might think--he was surprised by how light she was, considering her impressive strength and endurance. "Come on, you."</p><p> </p><p>"Don't forget! Ice and elevation!” Nancy called over her shoulder as she and Dolce carried the basket between them, sharing the burden. His hands were full, so he just lifted his chin to acknowledge that he heard her.</p><p> </p><p>“Hurry and take me home before anyone else sees me,” Frey whined, and when he didn’t budge, she eyed him glumly. After a moment she sighed exasperatedly and added, “Please?”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s more like it,” he praised, dutifully heading toward the castle’s back gate. They were right down the street, so it wouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes to get her home. “Just because you’re injured doesn’t mean you get to order me around, princess… although, depending on <em> what </em>you’re ordering me to do, I may let it slide.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m about to order you to shut your mouth,” she grumbled, crossing her arms, and he grinned. </p><p> </p><p>She didn’t realize it now--in the heat of the moment, she usually didn’t--but he was teasing her out of love. It was one of the most effective ways to distract her when she was upset or in pain, and she was definitely a worrisome combination of both.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think I’m capable of obeying that one,” he chuckled, “and you’d miss the sound of my voice before too long, anyway.”</p><p> </p><p>“Try me,” she huffed, turning her face away.</p><p> </p><p><em> All right, then, </em> he thought with a smirk as they approached the back gate. He turned sideways to shoulder it open, careful not to bump her legs--or worse, her head--on the wrought iron. She seemed to trust his capabilities when it came to maneuvering her, because she remained completely still, arms crossed and face averted. She was so cute when she was mad at him, even when he couldn’t see her expression. Her body language alone was adorable.</p><p> </p><p>As he walked the foot path to the castle, he noticed she had already watered her field, which she typically finished early each morning. The soil was visibly dark and damp, and the pom-pom grass--which was almost ready to harvest for tea; he could hardly wait--still glittered with a scant amount of water droplets. The mild sun couldn’t compete with the brisk air anymore, not producing enough warmth to effectively thaw the ground or assist with evaporation.</p><p> </p><p>At least watering was one less thing she’d require help with that day; he needed to ask her what remained on her list--once he was finished teasing her, whenever that might be. As others learned of her injury, they were likely to stop by and help, which would definitely be needed--he wouldn’t be surprised if ten people were necessary to handle the tasks Frey usually completed alone in a single afternoon. She really was incredible, something most of them took for granted, including himself.</p><p> </p><p>He stood in front of her door and nearly told her to open it, but he remembered his vow of silence and clamped his mouth shut. She reached over and grasped the handle on her own, though, and he entered backwards so he wouldn’t hit her with the door. He nudged it with his foot, making sure it clicked shut to ward off autumn's chill, and immediately noticed it wasn’t much warmer inside. The first order of business would be lighting the fireplace.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, okay, this is too weird,” she muttered as he carefully lowered her onto the dark blue sofa, which was adjacent to the stone fireplace and facing the front door. She had recently purchased furniture from the new shop in town, and just like her bed, the sofa was abnormally cushiony. “Say something, already.”</p><p> </p><p>He ignored her comment, maintaining a neutral expression as he knelt to remove her other boot. As he unzipped it and slid it off her foot, followed by her sock, he could feel her stare boring into the top of his head. He bit the inside of his cheek to discourage his laughter, placing her boots together at the end of the sofa. He knew she wouldn’t be able to endure his silence for long.</p><p> </p><p>"<em>Please </em> say something?” she added impatiently as he stood at the hearth of the fireplace. He crouched down to find that there was plenty of wood within the firebox already, still smoldering from the night before.</p><p> </p><p>“Something,” he replied mirthfully, glancing over his shoulder to meet her narrowed eyes with a provocative grin. Chuckling to himself, he extended his hand and conjured up a bright orange flame, casting it from his fingertips. The logs instantly ignited with a satisfying crackle as they reacted to the intense heat.</p><p> </p><p>“Grrr… now <em> please </em>come closer so I can slap you,” she growled, but amusement was creeping into the otherwise annoyed tone of her voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Poor baby,” he drawled, returning to her side and catching her hand when she raised it threateningly. He kissed her knuckles to pacify her, despite knowing he would immediately continue teasing her. “Now… what did Nancy say would help your ankle, again? Oh, yes--treat with fire and do not elevate under any circumstances.”</p><p> </p><p>“Geez, I should probably call for help,” she sighed with a roll of her eyes, but her cheeks were turning pink as he pressed an additional kiss to the top of her hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Lie down so we can <em> elevate </em>your foot,” he chuckled, releasing her hand and gingerly lifting her legs onto the sofa. He tucked a cushion behind her shoulders to prop her up, then affectionately pressed his lips to her forehead, and she sighed contentedly. “I really am sorry you’re hurt. How’d you manage that, anyway?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s actually your fault,” she mumbled after a moment’s hesitation, and her cheeks darkened further. He shot her a curious look, waiting for her to continue, and she eventually did so--very sheepishly, and with fidgety hands. “I was talking, walking up the steps, and carrying that huge basket at the same time. I didn’t expect to see you standing across the street. It was like…”</p><p> </p><p>“Like what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow quizzically when she trailed off.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know,” she replied, obviously fibbing. He frowned skeptically and she huffed before adding, “I guess I was so happy to see you that I got distracted.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm… even though I distracted you, I don’t agree that I should take the blame.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why not?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s isn’t my fault that you lose your wits around me. I didn’t choose to be so attractive and charming; I was born this way,” he replied shamelessly, sitting at the end of the couch and sweeping his long tail to one side.</p><p> </p><p>“You can choose whether or not to be conceited about it, though!”</p><p> </p><p>He laughed as he carefully lifted her slender legs and scooted over, draping them across his lap as she observed somewhat suspiciously. After positioning another cushion beneath her injured foot, he was satisfied that it was properly elevated, and he looked to her for approval--she didn’t seem like she wanted to kill him anymore, at least not within the next few minutes, so he assumed she was comfortable.</p><p> </p><p>He brushed his hair over his shoulders and out of the way, then gently placed a hand on her angry purple bruise, breathing deeply. He concentrated on transferring magic from his fingertips, which tingled pleasantly--a sure sign the spell was working as intended--and then he focused on her swollen ankle, radiating the same cold, numbing sensation that ice would provide. She inhaled sharply, as if he’d just submerged her foot in a bucket of frigid water, but then her face gradually relaxed and she breathed a sigh of relief.</p><p> </p><p>“Too cold?” he asked, watching amusedly as she shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. She was <em> so cute</em>. Sometimes when he was with her, that word repeated in his head.</p><p> </p><p>“Y-yeah,” she answered, lips quivering. She grabbed the snowy-white crocheted blanket that was folded over the back of the couch, hastily covering her legs and tugging it up over her chest. He remembered that Dolce made it for her after the last Defluffing Festival; it was the thickest, fluffiest blanket he’d ever seen. “My ankle feels great but the rest of me is f-freezing!”</p><p> </p><p>“You won’t be cold for long, now that you’re wearing a king wooly. You’re going to sweat me out in a few minutes,” he groaned, and she giggled as she burrowed into it.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, how do you conjure spells so…” She paused thoughtfully, observing the soft, white glimmer of magic as it flowed from his fingertips and across her foot. “...so gently? I’d probably turn you into a block of ice if I tried that. I can only use magic offensively--besides cure spells, of course."</p><p> </p><p>“That's because your energy is too chaotic, and your magic is an extension of that,” he answered with a teasing grin, and she scrunched up her face in response. “Learning supportive spells was part of training for priesthood. I spent several years practicing before I was adept.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you practice casting on other people?” she asked doubtfully. “That seems reckless.”</p><p> </p><p>“It was. I accidentally encased people in ice and set them aflame, at first.” He cringed and shook his head, sighing ruefully. “So many casualties.”</p><p> </p><p>“Leo, shut up. You did not.” She swatted his free hand, which was resting on her shin over the blanket, and he laughed heartily.</p><p> </p><p>“We were actually taught to practice supportive magic on <em> ourselves</em>,” he explained as he lightly traced the bruise, evenly distributing the spell’s effects. “That’s the only way you can determine how to properly control the intensity, after all, and you’re motivated to learn quickly because mistakes are painful.”</p><p> </p><p>“Geez, I can imagine,” she responded, wide-eyed. “I guess you caught on pretty fast, though, since you still have all of your appendages.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well… the ones you’ve seen, anyway,” he replied mournfully, flattening his ears. She set it up so perfectly that he was obligated to make that joke; there wasn’t even a question in his mind.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my gods,” she choked out, turning bright red as the implication dawned on her. Hiding her face behind her hands, she shook with laughter, and her response amused him so much that he had to stop casting temporarily. He threw his head back against the couch and laughed along with her. “<em>Leo</em>! If I could run away right now, I would!”</p><p> </p><p>“You have no choice but to endure my jokes until I get bored, and I’d say the chances of that happening are null,” he teased, continuing to laugh as she poked her tongue out at him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll hop away on one leg if I have to!”</p><p> </p><p>“And I’ll throw you over my shoulder and carry you back home every time.”</p><p> </p><p>Deciding it was best to lay off the ice for a while, he transitioned to a cure spell--which normally imbued the targeted area with soothing warmth, but in this case, heat would only serve to increase inflammation. The swelling had already been reduced by a substantial amount, and the last thing he wanted to do was reverse the process, so he concentrated on maintaining a cool--but no longer frigid--temperature. With any luck, he could expedite the healing process, if only by a day or two.</p><p> </p><p>“Does that feel okay?” he asked, and when she nodded sedately, he extended his free hand to grasp one of hers. “Your immobility actually works to my advantage right now, since I need to talk to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“You do?” Her delicate eyebrows shot upward and she pressed her lips together, seeming tense. “About what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing’s wrong, but it is important,” he replied softly, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. He felt awful that, judging by her reaction, she immediately assumed the worst.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, okay. That’s a relief,” she breathed. Her expression relaxed and transitioned to one of curiosity as she appeared to search his eyes for clues.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve realized that you always attend to my needs before your own,” he began, hoping to convey his sincerity. “You’ve been helping me come to terms with my past for over a year now, but when it comes to <em> your </em>previous life, we haven’t even scratched the surface. You haven’t brought it up, and I’m ashamed that I haven’t asked you about it.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s really thoughtful, but…” She shrugged as she grasped for words, then met his eyes and showed him a gentle smile. “Honestly, I don’t speculate about who I was anymore. It crosses my mind so rarely that I don’t feel the need to talk about it. The first year was rough, but you weren’t here yet.”</p><p> </p><p>“Did you talk to anyone back then? Knowing you, you pretended like everything was fine.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t want to bother anyone with--”</p><p> </p><p>“See, that’s what concerns me. You take on everyone else’s problems, but if <em> you </em> need to talk, you’re worried about being an inconvenience.”</p><p> </p><p>“But I’m the leader. I feel like I should be the one answering questions, not asking them.”</p><p> </p><p>“Most royalty have councils and advisors, you know.”</p><p><br/>“I guess that’s true… but I'm not actually a princess, so it doesn't count.”</p><p> </p><p>“You've assumed the role of one, so let's say it does. The closest person you have to an advisor is Arthur, but you’re handling his princely duties so he can focus on other endeavors. You have Venti, but I think the only advice you get from her nowadays involves the ratio of syrup to whipped cream on her pancakes. And you have me, of course, but I’m better suited to serving as your concubine.” He added the last comment monotonously, wearing a passive expression, so it took her a moment to register what he’d actually said.</p><p> </p><p>“My <em> concubine</em>,” she repeated between bouts of laughter. “What is wrong with you?”</p><p> </p><p>He responded with a lopsided grin, cheekily ignoring her question--mainly because there were too many things to list in that regard. “You do have ‘servants,’ but their talents include sleepwalking, cooking dishes so bland that even Porcoline won’t eat them, and crying at the mere <em> thought </em>of cuddling woolies.”</p><p> </p><p>She gasped, smacking his chest with the back of her hand. “Quit being mean!”</p><p> </p><p>He was about to come back with a witty retort, but the tingling sensation in his fingertips was suddenly akin to pins and needles. He glanced down, sensing the spell had outlived its usefulness for the moment; the flow of magic had become sluggish and forced. He allowed the spell to dwindle until it faded completely, admiring his handiwork. Her entire foot was substantially less swollen, and she smiled gratefully at him despite being irritated.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s all I can do today, as far as healing goes, but we can try icing it again in a little while. Are you ready to get back on topic?” he asked soberly, folding his hands on top of the soft blanket.</p><p> </p><p>“The question is whether or not <em> you </em>are,” she answered with a playful eyeroll.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait a second.” He made an exaggerated show of regaining his composure--closing his eyes, inhaling deeply, and rolling his shoulders several times as he gradually exhaled. When he looked at her again, he made sure his face was flawlessly stoic. “There.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, geez,” she sighed, shaking her head. She stared at him in a very particular way; her expression clearly conveyed that she loved him but she also thought he was an insufferable idiot. That face was quickly becoming a favorite, so he frequently challenged himself to draw that reaction from her in less and less time.</p><p> </p><p>She also didn’t look convinced that he would behave himself, but he decided to make a serious effort, clasping both of her hands in his. Having this conversation was extremely important to him, but it was easy to get distracted when he found teasing her so irresistible. “So, since you were afraid to bother anyone, how did you cope?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well…” She gazed pensively at the blazing fireplace, and he quietly waited as she gathered her thoughts. “When the first year passed and my amnesia hadn’t improved at all, I had no choice but to accept I’ll never remember. Now that it’s been almost three years, I’m even more certain, and that’s okay! It’s easier for me because Selphia is all I know. It’s my home, everyone here is my family, and I don’t feel like I’m missing anything. In fact, I believe I was meant to be here, if only to wake you and the other guardians up--and to help save Venti, of course.”</p><p> </p><p>He could only gaze fondly at her in response, and he was motionless if not for involuntarily blinking and breathing. She radiated happiness and enthusiasm as she spoke, once again amazing him with her dedication and ability to adapt. He felt marginally better--he was still guilty of neglecting to address her past sooner, but at least she wasn’t struggling with it.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” she asked when he didn’t comment, attempting to rouse him by shaking his hand from side to side.</p><p> </p><p>“To put it concisely, you’re fascinating,” he said, smiling softly as he openly admired her.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop,” she giggled, flushing. “If I’m fascinating, then you’re... outstanding.”</p><p> </p><p>“Since we’re indulging in flattery, I should add that you’re also stunningly beautiful,” he purred, dragging a finger along the curve of her jaw.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, that’s enough! You’re embarrassing me,” she complained, swatting his hand away and covering her face.</p><p> </p><p>“What? It is Valentine’s Day, after all. Oh, which reminds me…” He reached into the pouch at his hip, hoping the cookie wasn’t crushed. By some miracle, it seemed to be intact. “I stayed up all night baking, so I hope you appreciate it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” She pursed her lips skeptically. “You touched milk without panicking?”</p><p> </p><p>“I barely managed, but since it was for you…” He punctuated the sentence with a flirtatious wink, but she pointed her finger at him accusingly.</p><p> </p><p>“Aha! Milk isn’t an ingredient in cookies!”</p><p> </p><p>“Damn.” He sighed dramatically as she peeled back the decorative paper--which was obnoxiously pink and dotted with hearts--and peeked inside. “I knew I shouldn’t have asked Forte for a recipe, of all people.”</p><p> </p><p>“You know, Xiao Pai and Lin Fa bake the same kind of cookies every year, and they just so happen to be raspberry white chocolate--just like this one,” she reasoned, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh? What a coincidence,” he replied, projecting an air of nonchalance.</p><p> </p><p>“This is a matcha cookie!” she exclaimed, grinning triumphantly. “Not only did you <em> not </em> bake this, but you didn’t even look at it!”</p><p> </p><p>“Pfft, that’s just like Forte to mislabel a recipe,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes skyward. “How did she confuse raspberry with matcha? I mean, honestly.”</p><p> </p><p>“That only makes sense if you didn’t notice a recipe labeled ‘raspberry white chocolate’ included neither of those ingredients, not to mention that matcha cookies are <em> green</em>, not white. Give it up already! The whole of Adonea will sink into the ocean before you learn how to bake.” Her small frame shook with spirited laughter as his confident expression vanished.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, fine, you caught me,” he grumbled, crossing his arms and frowning in defeat. “I’d suspect you’ve been sleuthing with Illuminata, except you actually solved a case.”</p><p> </p><p>“No, I just know you too well,” she giggled. “But apparently not as well as I thought, since I never imagined you’d participate at all.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anything to see that smile,” he grinned, tweaking her nose. “Well, almost anything.”</p><p><br/>“Your cookie is on the kitchen counter, but since I knew you wouldn’t eat it, I actually made it for me,” she admitted unabashedly. “It’s huge! With extra icing.”</p><p> </p><p>“I expected no less.” He smiled fondly at her, realizing he needed to get back on track <em> again</em>--and initiate the pivotal conversation that made him the most nervous. “So, are you positive you don’t need to vent about the past? I promise to listen quietly.”</p><p> </p><p>“Honestly, no, I’m fine.” She leaned over to place the cookie on the coffee table in front of the couch, then grasped his nearest hand and cuddled it to her chest. “Don’t worry.”</p><p> </p><p>“All right… then no more talk of the past. Let’s talk about the present and the future.” He took a deep breath and then his voice sounded surprisingly steady, despite the tightness in his chest. “Are you happy with me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I am,” she replied without hesitation, brows knitting together as she intently searched his face. Although he was mostly confident that would be her answer, he was relieved just the same--part of him was still in disbelief that she chose him, of all people. “Why do you ask?”</p><p> </p><p>“This morning, I realized I have no idea how you imagine your future--what you picture your life being like--and I worry about whether or not I can provide that. I don't want to hinder you."</p><p> </p><p>“Leo, you know me… I tend to live one day at a time. I don’t really plan ahead, except for festivals and agricultural purposes. So don't feel bad that you don't know what I want, because I don't really know, either… the only thing I'm absolutely positive about is that I want to be here in Selphia, with you."</p><p> </p><p>"I need you to seriously think about this, though… what if I never find closure completely? What if I can't overcome my guilt, and even if we stay together despite that, I'm never comfortable with getting married or starting a family?”</p><p> </p><p>"Then we don't get married or start a family, and I won’t hold it against you. You made a promise to spend your life with Maria, and you were forced to break that promise when your wedding was right around the corner. I understand that getting engaged again, not to mention going through with a wedding ceremony, may never be possible for you.”</p><p> </p><p>"You're really okay with that?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, I am."</p><p> </p><p>He watched her for several long, quiet moments, and those unwavering green eyes didn’t contain the slightest hint of uncertainty. “But that might change.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well… everything is subject to change, right? Does that mean we shouldn’t live in the moment?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, it doesn’t… you’re not truly alive if you don’t take any risks.”</p><p> </p><p>“Exactly!” she nodded, flashing a vibrant smile.</p><p> </p><p>“But what about--”</p><p> </p><p>“Starting a family someday? I can’t even stand the thought of having physical limitations for a couple of weeks, much less <em> nine months</em>. If you count recovery time, it would be more like a year, and then there’s nursing, and diapers, and child-rearing, and--can you imagine?!” That must have been a rhetorical question, because she didn’t give him a chance to answer. “I’d go crazy! I’d have to give up nearly everything, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be prepared to do that.”</p><p> </p><p>He stared at her and blinked. He hadn’t expected such a thorough answer when he broached that topic, and he felt the tiniest pang of disappointment that she might never want children. “Those are all very good points. You can’t even take it easy for an hour without growing restless, like right now--you’re fidgeting.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” she admitted with a small, guilty smile. She gripped his hands tighter, probably in an effort to stop playing with them; she kept threading and unthreading their fingers. “So… I think we should worry about crossing that bridge when we come to it--<em>if </em> we come to it. Let’s live in the moment, for however long the moment lasts.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then, in the spirit of spontaneity…” He lifted her just enough to move her closer and situate her thighs across his lap, then readjusted the cushion beneath her foot before embracing her. She looped her arms around his neck, snuggling close and tucking her head beneath his chin, which gave him the courage he needed to continue. He pressed his smile into the crown of her head, saying, “This isn’t at all how I imagined telling you, but due to your uncontrollable attraction to me and the clumsiness that resulted…”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Hey</em>!” she chirped, leaning back and pouting adorably. Then she gazed into his eyes and they must have conveyed an emotion that tipped her off, because she drew a sharp breath and held it.</p><p> </p><p>He tenderly palmed her cheek with one hand while the other traced along her jaw and came to rest on the nape of her neck, and she leaned forward expectantly. If their lips met, he knew they were unlikely to part without an interruption, so he resisted and nuzzled the side of her face instead. His eyes closed as he breathed her in, noticing the distinct, comforting scent of charm blues was more fragrant that day, and he squeezed her appreciatively.</p><p> </p><p>A torrent of affection overcame him and he rapidly kissed her temples, her forehead, her nose, both cheeks, her chin; he peppered her with kisses until she squeaked and giggled and started squirming away. He laughed and held her lovely, rosy-cheeked face in his hands, and he knew the ensuing words would be among the most sincere he had ever spoken; he had no reservations.</p><p> </p><p>“Frey, I love you,” he said--first in the ancient language, then in the present. In his mind’s eye, he glimpsed two faceless women as they met in the middle of a time-honored bridge. Both of them seemed familiar, but in a way he couldn’t comprehend, and they only appeared for a split second.</p><p> </p><p>Her touch was as tender as her voice when she responded in kind, repeating the two phrases back to him in a gentle murmur, and then a startled flicker darkened the bright green of her eyes for the briefest moment. He almost thought she may have seen something, too, and he opened his mouth to mention it--but she was gazing at him in wonderment, glossy-eyed and brimming with happiness, and he didn’t want to spoil the mood.</p><p> </p><p>Even as sharp as his ears were, the only sounds he could discern--besides Frey’s blissful, contented little noises as she snuggled into him--were frequent pops and snaps as the logs crumbled and shifted, accompanied by the occasional gust of wind deflected by the windows. As her small hands rubbed wide circles over his back, he felt entirely at peace--enough that he was suddenly grateful for how the day had panned out, in spite of how chaotically it began.</p><p> </p><p>He wished she wasn’t hurt, of course, but at least the situation would serve as a valuable lesson. Frey needed to learn how to delegate without feeling guilty, and everyone else needed to learn that she wasn’t invincible--although she definitely portrayed herself as such. She was an incredibly stubborn, reckless, hard-headed little earthmate princess, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. It just meant he’d have to take special care of her, as well as encourage her to treat herself properly.</p><p> </p><p>He was deep in thought, reminiscing--about how her vivid emerald eyes were the first thing he saw when he opened his, and the inexplicable, exhilarating bolt of emotional energy she transferred to him during the ritual--when she gradually raised her head. Her bow-shaped lips curved into the sweetest smile as she leaned her forehead against his and bumped their noses together, and he had never wanted to kiss her so badly, which was saying a lot.</p><p> </p><p>They both hummed in relief as their mutual desire was fulfilled--very briefly--before blazing a trail that led to another, more urgent one. Her arms tightened around his neck as she angled her head opposite his, parting her lips, and he eagerly accepted the invitation. He splayed his roving hands across her back, trying to keep them occupied by tracing her spine repetitively. He had nearly been successful in that, but she grabbed his face--fingers on both sides of his neck, thumbs stroking the corners of his jaw--and swirled her tongue around his. She moaned as a result of the sensual contact, and he saw white beneath his closed eyelids.</p><p> </p><p>Before he even consciously registered it, his hands were cupping her shapely backside through her dress, squeezing firmly. He felt her gasp into his mouth and he almost let go in case it was too much, but she dug her fingers into his shoulders and raised herself up just enough to give him better access. He was in the process of pulling her completely into his lap when his last vestiges of self-restraint thumped him in the forehead.</p><p> </p><p>That was just enough to break his trance and he put her down, separating their lips only to crush them together again, over and over, in rapid succession. Finally he gained some semblance of control and cupped her face in his hands as he drew back, and they stared at each other, panting, eyes half-lidded and clouded with lust that was still begging to be satiated.</p><p> </p><p>"Wait… one other thing…,” he breathed, grinning as he smoothed her hair behind her ears. He dropped his hands to her trembling shoulders and held them firmly but gently; he didn’t trust either of them to resist diving back in.</p><p> </p><p>"Another surprise?" she asked, equally breathless and clutching the sides of his vest.</p><p> </p><p>He waited until his lungs were functioning properly and his pulse stopped racing with adrenaline, admiring her scarlet cheeks in the meantime. She seemed tense with anticipation, and he lightly pinched her cheek to make her relax. Sure enough, she exhaled sharply, followed by a breathy laugh.</p><p> </p><p>“I was wondering…”</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me, already!”</p><p> </p><p>“Will you be in a relationship with me? Officially.” He chuckled and squeezed her shoulders, thumbs stroking the sides of her neck as her mouth fell open in shock. “Call us whatever you prefer--lovers, boyfriend and girlfriend, sweethearts, partners, a couple, significant others--”</p><p> </p><p>“Valentines?” she giggled mirthfully.</p><p> </p><p>“Valentines, even, if that’s what you want…” He grimaced. “Although I will say that’s my least favorite.”</p><p> </p><p>“No more sneaking around?”</p><p> </p><p>“No more sneaking around.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay!” she chirped, flashing an enthusiastic smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Here I am, pouring my heart out, and your response is ‘okay,’” he sighed, feigning disappointment. He frowned and imitated the pout she so often used against him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m…” She grinned, eyes practically sparkling as she gazed into his. “...stunned speechless.”</p><p> </p><p>"Then use your mouth for a purpose other than talking,” he purred, and she immediately took him up on it, threading her fingers through his hair.</p><p> </p><p>This time she was bolder than he was accustomed to, and suddenly he felt like he was sitting directly in front of the blazing fireplace. All-consuming heat radiated from his bare chest as she dragged her calloused fingers across his collarbone, then down to his abdomen and back up again. He shivered pleasantly, like a blast of cold air had ghosted across his skin, despite simultaneously feeling like he was on fire.</p><p> </p><p>He kissed her with abandon until she broke away for air, and her turbulent eyes clearly conveyed her need. He dipped his head and traced the smooth line of her jaw with urgent lips, only to be hindered by the leather gorget, which had recently become the bane of his existence.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>This thing</em>--!” he grumbled in irritation, fumbling with the sturdy metal clasps between her shoulder blades. She expelled a breathy giggle and reached back to help him, and as soon as the frustrating piece of armor fell to the wayside, he eagerly latched onto her graceful neck.</p><p> </p><p>Her sharp gasp tickled his ear as she twined her fingers in his hair, holding him in place, and that was all the encouragement he needed. He mouthed her neck, gently sucking the tempting spot where it curved into her shoulder, and the sound she made in response--a soft, desperate mewling noise--rendered him voracious. He dug the fingers of one hand into the back of her hair, shoving the blanket aside with the other, and blindly reached for her leg.</p><p> </p><p>He grasped the firm, silky skin just shy of her knee, intending to caress his way downward, when his palm brushed a patch of rough skin and she yelped. The hazy clouds of desire parted again, just enough for him to come to his senses, and then his muddled brain managed to form a coherent thought.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn, I almost forgot about your knees," he muttered apologetically, "I'm sorry."</p><p> </p><p>"You mean you <em> did </em> forget," she replied dazedly, and he couldn't help but observe the redness of her lips and the pinkness of her neck. Both were a result of his persistent affection, and the sight made him want to ravish her more.</p><p> </p><p>"You know," he murmured, gently coaxing her to bend her leg and raise her knee. Feeling inspired by whatever god of mischief ruled over him, he showed her a lopsided smile. "I wasn't kidding earlier."</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?” She tilted her head curiously and her disheveled twintails swayed to one side. He reached over and smoothed one, and her mint tresses were silky enough that it was almost impossible to hold onto; it slipped right through his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>“I actually <em> can </em>kiss your knees better,” he drawled, eyeing her salaciously as he returned his hand to her leg.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh?” She flushed anew, nibbling her lip, and he nearly growled in the back of his throat as a wave of desire overwhelmed him.</p><p> </p><p>“Watch," he told her, tenderly touching his lips to her battered skin. He didn’t apply any pressure, only needing slight contact to create the illusion that the spell was emanating from his mouth. His hand--which he carefully held out of sight, against the far side of his neck--tingled as the spell tended to her wound. He closed his eyes and focused on instilling a warm, soothing sensation as the magic enveloped her knee in shimmering light.</p><p> </p><p>“Uhm…" Her emerald eyes were wide and disbelieving as she stared down at her knee, which was now perfectly healed and in stark contrast to the opposite one. "How did you…?"</p><p> </p><p>"Just one of my many talents,” he replied mysteriously, pleased the illusion had been effective--although Frey was easier to fool than most, when it came to that kind of thing. She was a little too naïve and trusting at times, which he was trying to break her of, but damn if it wasn’t great during times like this. “It’s only effective on superficial wounds, though, like most cure spells.”</p><p> </p><p>“You really are full of surprises today. I’ve lost count,” she laughed with a shake of her head, just as awestruck when she watched him heal her other leg. She admired the results for a moment before teasingly asking, “Did you practice kissing spells on yourself, too?”</p><p> </p><p>“Pfft, there was no need for that,” he smirked with a frivolous wave of his hand. Because he knew she found his vanity especially annoying as of late, he made it a point to toss his hair--which looked particularly nice that day, if he did say so himself--before he continued. “People lined up for miles when they heard I was practicing that particular skill.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oops, did I say you were full of <em> surprises</em>? I actually meant to say that you’re full of--”</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, hey, hey,” he chuckled, lightly rapping his knuckles on the side of her chin, “play nice.”</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, fine,” she sighed, but then she grinned and added, “as soon as you do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, well… I guess we’re both going to be playing dirty for quite some time, then.” He inclined his head toward her and winked. “Come to think of it, playing dirty with you sounds pretty fun.”</p><p> </p><p>“You say that, but you don’t know how dirty I can actually get,” she giggled, and he flushed even though he knew she was referring to farm work.</p><p> </p><p>“By the way, did you hurt yourself anywhere else?” he asked with a teasing lilt to his voice. Her skin was tingly with residual magic and he stroked one of her mended knees as he lowered his voice suggestively. “Somewhere a little higher up, perhaps?”</p><p> </p><p>“M-maybe…,” she murmured, struggling to maintain eye contact for the first time in a while. She nibbled her bottom lip again--just a subconscious habit of hers, but he found it incredibly enticing--and he bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself. Then he realized she was unfastening her breastplate as she added coquettishly, “You should probably check, just in case.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just in case,” he repeated meekly, feeling his cheeks burn and his eyes widen.</p><p> </p><p>There was no doubt that he looked thoroughly stunned, and her mirthful giggle confirmed it. He’d wholly expected her to playfully smack him and brush off his lewd comment, so he was too bewildered to think straight--especially when the breastplate tumbled to the floor alongside her gorget. He gulped.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re acting a little strange,” she teased, and her cheeks were also glowing as she unlaced the front of her dress--enough for him to admire a portion of the undoubtedly soft, supple ivory skin concealed beneath. The tops of her breasts swelled over the fabric and all he really wanted to do was bury his face in them; not only would they conceal his blush, but they looked extremely comfortable. “Feeling okay?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m exhausted, suddenly,” he fibbed, covering his mouth and faking a yawn as his eyes roved over her chest. “And these pillows that just appeared in front of me look <em> really soft</em>…”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t stare so hard!” she squeaked, burrowing into his chest, and he chuckled as he patted her head and ruffled her hair.</p><p> </p><p>“Really? That’s like dangling a grilled squid in front of my face, then telling me not to eat it,” he complained woefully, flattening his ears and frowning pitifully when her head shot up.</p><p> </p><p>“Can you <em> possibly </em>think of a worse comparison?!”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I’m sure I can.” He pretended to be deep in thought, tapping his chin and gazing out the window. “Give me a second."</p><p> </p><p>“Leo!” she growled, pinching the inside of his arm. “Seriously…”</p><p> </p><p>“Ow!” he gasped as he rubbed the sore spot. She looked sweet, but he swore her pinch was meaner than a hornet sting. “If it’s any consolation, I’m sure you taste even better than squid.”</p><p> </p><p>“Given your bizarre palate, it’s probably a compliment if you <em> don’t </em>like my taste,” she grumbled.</p><p> </p><p>“Not true. You’re in a category all of your own, in which my standard preferences don’t apply.” He lifted her hand to his lips like he was going to kiss it, but instead, he dragged his tongue from her knuckles to her wrist.</p><p> </p><p>“...Are you licking me?”</p><p> </p><p>“How else am I supposed to get a proper taste? I can’t exactly take a bite out of you…” He raised his head as a mischievous smirk spread across his face, and he didn’t finish his sentence until she started to look nervous. That only took a few seconds, and then he added wickedly, “...<em>or can I</em>?”</p><p> </p><p>“N-no!” she yelped, wriggling around and gasping with laughter as he nipped at her neck. She very unsuccessfully attempted to shove him off, and considering her legs were still across his lap and she couldn’t walk, there was no escape anyway.</p><p> </p><p>“Just a <em> tiny </em> nibble,” he pleaded impishly, skimming her smooth shoulder with his teeth. He cradled the back of her neck and locked his free arm around her waist, chuckling as she tried clawing at his back and tickling his sides to dislodge him.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop it! I can’t--<em>ahh!"</em> she exclaimed with effort, in between laughs and shrieks. He grazed the shell of her ear next, causing her to writhe in his arms and tug his hair. “Someone’s going to think I’m being--<em>eek!</em>--attacked and come running!”</p><p> </p><p>“But I love when you squirm around like that,” he cooed, kissing a path down her neck and along her collarbones. When his lips brushed the intoxicatingly warm curves of her breasts and he lavished them with kisses, flicking his tongue out to taste her intermittently, she stopped struggling. Panting in time with the rise and fall of her chest, she clutched his shoulders and whimpered.</p><p> </p><p>“You taste like cute, with a dash of stubborn,” he chuckled when he managed to tear himself away, by sheer force of will. He was extremely thankful that the thick blanket had ended up across his lap when he uncovered her legs earlier.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess I should’ve expected that,” she giggled, flushed and starry-eyed.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, and I detected a hint of strawberries, probably because you eat so many.”</p><p> </p><p>“No way! If that’s true, then you should taste like seafood, and sour drop… and <em> poison</em>!” She laughed and draped her arms over his shoulders, idly stroking the back of his neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you won’t know for sure until you try me,” he smirked, leaning forward and kissing the corner of her mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m <em> not </em> going to lick you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aw. Why not?” he asked, peering into her eyes dejectedly.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know… I just…” She was giggling hard enough that she was having trouble speaking already, and she hadn’t even done anything yet--it made him want to push her all the more, so he did.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, <em> wherever </em> you want,” he insisted cheekily, holding his arms out in invitation. “Your choice.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my gods… why are you like this?”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” He winked smugly and she pressed her hands over her mouth to suppress her laughter, to no avail.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t do it… I’m laughing too hard,” she gasped between relentless giggles, sagging into his arms, and the amusing display made him chuckle. A moment later he felt the warm wetness of her tongue tickle the side of his neck, then the puff of her breath when she laughed again, making him shiver deliciously as goosebumps raced across his arms.</p><p> </p><p>“S-so, what’s the verdict?” He tried to appear unaffected, but if her triumphant grin was any indication, he failed miserably.</p><p> </p><p>“Thankfully, there’s not a hint of anything I listed… just mischief, with a dash of vanity.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmph, that’s not very exciting,” he grumbled, frowning. “I was hoping I tasted exotic.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nope. You do taste good, though,” she chirped, “I think I’ll add you to my menu.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh?” His blue eyes sparked with interest. “Is this a breakfast, lunch, or dinner menu? For scheduling purposes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Um…” She hesitated before giving him a meaningful smile, gazing up at him through her full lashes. “It’ll probably change from day to day, depending on various circumstances.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fair enough,” he grinned, looking forward to ironing out the details later. “How are you feeling?”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not in any pain right now, so I’m feeling much better for the time being,” she replied with a bright smile, “thanks to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Just say the word, and I'll make you feel a <em> whole lot better</em>…,” he purred, just before realizing she might shock him again by taking him up on the offer.</p><p> </p><p>“Leo!” she squeaked, flushing.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m just kidding, of course… unless you don’t want me to be.” He showed her a lopsided smile and tilted his head quizzically, since she was staring so intently at him. “I can go either way.”</p><p> </p><p>She was definitely turning something over and over in her head, which made him a little nervous, and then she abruptly locked eyes with him and flushed darker than she had all day. He swallowed thickly as she returned to his neck, and he felt her velvety lips part against his skin, which was overly sensitive by that point. She pressed an open-mouthed kiss there, causing him to hiss through his teeth, and an involuntary moan shuddered in his chest when she dared to add suction. He nearly fell off the couch.</p><p> </p><p>“F-Frey! What are you--” he rasped, clamping his hands around her waist in an effort to keep her at bay.</p><p> </p><p>“Getting revenge, obviously,” she replied with mischief lacing her voice, and then he was on edge with anticipation. She was terrifyingly unpredictable when she got like this, and he had instigated it.</p><p> </p><p>His fingers dug into her waist as he rapidly switched back and forth between desperately wanting her to continue and desperately wanting her to stop--mainly because a certain part of him was reacting accordingly. He sucked in a breath and groaned softly when he felt her teeth graze his neck, and at that point his hands went slack, no longer resisting.</p><p> </p><p>She hummed in amusement, much as he had a few minutes before, and she trailed kisses along his jaw until she found his lips. His heart leapt into his throat when she grasped the back of his head, pulling him down for a kiss that was slow but intensely passionate, and he eagerly reciprocated. Every bit of her was so soft and pliant in his arms and beneath his hands; he was completely enraptured.</p><p> </p><p>They continued to trade breathless kisses, taking turns languidly tugging at each other’s lips, and he tentatively hitched up the front of her skirt--heedful of any apprehension on her part. She whimpered encouragingly when his hand roamed between her leanly muscled thighs, squeezing them appreciatively, and he was just shy of their invitingly warm juncture when the front door opened. He cursed himself for being so distracted that he’d ignored the tell-tale twitch of his ears.</p><p> </p><p>Forte took one look at them, promptly tripped over the threshold, and dropped a tray of what was almost certainly charcoal. Most of it rolled across the tile floor in a cloud of black dust, crumbling as the two women remained frozen in place and red-cheeked. Why in the world would she have a tray of…? When the answer dawned on him, he burst into raucous laughter, wondering what would've happened if he actually <em>had</em> followed Forte's recipe. Definitely nothing good.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, that makes three.”</p><p> </p><p>“...Huh? Three what?”</p><p> </p><p>“Next year, it’s probably safer for everyone if I just stay in bed… with you.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope y'all enjoyed this, and Happy Valentine's Day (soon)! It's actually one of my least favorite holidays, because it's just so... contrived and commercial, but I like it a little more after writing this~! I'd love to know what you think if you have a moment to tell me &lt;3_&lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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